


Outlaw's Prophecy

by Bee_Haw_Yee_Haw



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur Whump, Chapter 2: Horseshoe Overlook (Red Dead Redemption 2), Curses, Mental Breakdown, Minor, Minor whump, Not Beta Read, Witch Curses, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 10:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20095636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bee_Haw_Yee_Haw/pseuds/Bee_Haw_Yee_Haw
Summary: Arthur goes exploring and discovers an abandoned Witch's Cauldron in the Grizzlies.





	Outlaw's Prophecy

**Author's Note:**

> Thought this ides up, really liked it but putting it into words is more difficult than maths.
> 
> Wasn't going to post this just yet, but I'd appreciate feedback as I'm not entirely sure if I should continue.
> 
> I also haven't gone through to check for errors just yet. 
> 
> Now, I'm terrible at finishing stories so don't get your hopes up

Arthur Morgan was a gallivanter. An adventurer. Someone who wandered but always returned home. His journeys always found themselves far and wide. Harsh, snowy mountains up North, or the boggy bayou of the East.

Not always safe, however. Cliffs and predators, with the man hitting into just about every tree to exist. Arthur had limped into camp with more injuries than he cared to remember.

He'd discover all sorts. Tiny trinkets, new books, all sorts. He could meet nice people or run into the dastardly O'Driscols. Sometimes, if he was lucky enough, there was something of value or a bundle of cash.

Yet, more often than not, things Morgan would find were a little more sinister than anyone might have thought. Say, for example, the (now deceased) duo down at Aberdeen Pig Farm Ranch; innocent at first glance, even giving Arthur a meal and sharing a laugh, before drugging him just to pick his pockets.

This time, on his routine run about, Arthur had stopped in the vast expanse of Amberino. The East Grizzlies.

The heat was blistering and cruel. Beating down on the lonely outlaw and his gelding. The two stopped for rest, rider sliding off the leather saddle. Head buried deep in the lush grass, the horse, a strong, hot-headed Ardennes named Bounty, ripped blades free with his huge teeth.

Arthur stood by, hand absentmindedly patting at his stead's neck. He scanned the area in search of shade.

There were boulders dotted around, standing still in the long grass. Trees, tall and wide, stood together to create a miniature forest to his left, a few remaining free from the group.

_"That will do."_ Arthur thought, grabbing at the reigns and slowly leading his horse to the shelter.

Arthur felt a wave of nausea as he stepping across the divide between light and dark, but he put it down to overheating, making sure to shrug open another button from his shirt. Reaching into his saddle, he produced a handful of sugar cubes. Bounty lifted his magnificent head, soft lips finding the palm of Arthur's hand scooping up the small treat. "Stay here boy."

Wandering through the thin layer of trees, he noticed a wooden building. The foliage almost surrounding it as if to protect the shoddy-looking structure. Arthur felt instantly drawn to it. There wasn't a door, just a great arch, almost inviting people in, open to the world. So he stepped in.

The temperature seemed to drop slightly and Arthur briefly missed his coat until his attention was taken by the decor of the foreign home. 

Carmine pillows sat up against a horizontal log, standing out in the umber shades of the woodland. To his left was a table, an ugly rug draped over it and covered in an array of items. There was jars, books, herbs and candles, all scattered upon the wood. Herbivore bait sat amongst the mix. Even a can of assorted, salted offal. Picking up the bait, his hand brushed something.

Arthur all but jumped back in shock. A human skull sat at the end of the table. How had he missed that?

He should go. The building suddenly not feeling right. The chill growing. The outlaw turned and halted.

Beside an old chest laid shackles, rusted and clamped shut. And just behind them, stark white and standing out against the darkness of the dirt ground was bones. Two sets of human remains, sitting there for God knows how many days. Fear bubbled in his chest, along with sick and disgust. Where the hell was he?!

Bones that of animals also rested on the ground.

_Squawk!_

Arthur physically jumped, stumbling back. A raven sat, perched on the wood, watching him with beady eyes. Its head twitched. Another squawk, staring. It wouldn't stop staring and neither could Arthur. He was trapped in its gaze, deeper than the darkest of caves. Pitch black like the wood from a campfire. And without thinking he moved forward. Small steps and he turned. Forgetting all about his woes.

Arthur needed a drink. His throat was drier than the deserts of New Austin and the liquor in his satchel wouldn't help. 

_Over there..._ The bird seemed to say, jerking its head from side to side.. _The cauldron._ Arthur trusted it. He felt he could. He once again turned, barely noticed the copious amounts of melted candles. Instead, focusing on the wide cauldron rested above an ever-glowing fire. Rock safely keeping the flame away from the house. The liquid bubbled, threatening to overspill the metal bowl but never acting upon it. He couldn't tell you the colour of it, although it seemed dull. He thought he saw purple, but then grey. Maybe blue. It looked as though he was staring into the galaxies above.

A giant bubble burst as Arthur leant over. A gust of strawberry scent wafted into his nose. There was also peaches and a hint of whiskey. Horses too...

His metal cup was suddenly dipping into the liquid. Fear spiked in his mind for only a brief second before the enticing aroma banished it away. Just one small sip to quench his thirst in the heat. It wouldn't hurt.

As the container was drained the raven began to shriek, almost laughing at him. The noises got louder and louder until they were unbearable. The world around Arthur began to spin, twist and turn. Shrinking and expanding in front of him. The cauldron seemed miles away, yet right in front of him as he stumbled. The cup was dropped as Arthur brought his hands to his eyes, digging in the sweaty palms. His mouth burned. His throat burned. His stomach burned. Every cell of his body was alight, scorching hot and excited. 

Arthur let out a yell. He was a fool. _A fool!_

He shouldn't have drunk it. What if it was poison? What if he died up here? He'd join the pile of bones, just more tat lying forever in the abandoned shack. No one would ever find him. Hosea and Dutch, back at camp, never knowing why their son had never returned. Arthur wouldn't get to go hunting with Charles, watch Javier play his guitar, get drunk off his ass with Lenny. Hell, he'd even miss Uncle's uselessness and constant yapping about lumbago.

A bright light exploded behind his eyes. He felt like his skull was going to split, brain swelling with whatever was now coursing through his system. He swayed from side to side, breath coming in at odd intervals. Arthur could hear his heart beating erratically, fearing it would rip through his chest and land in the deadly brew. His hands felt numbingly cold and lethargic, struggling to move them properly. Morgan's legs felt weak as he staggered about.

His neck felt like it was being sawed off, the pain starting right at the back before gradually flowing through the flesh and bone. His head almost split open as if a bullet was ripping its way through his brain. His body hit the floor with a thud as more imaginary bullets seemed to hit him, landing right in his torso and embedding themselves there.

Yet when he briefly opened his eyes he saw nothing through the tears that now glided down his face. No blood, no wounds. His head was still on his shoulders. Arthur was fine but in such agony.

He swore he heard Molly O'Shea yell out in pain as, what felt like a shotgun pellet blew out his abdomen.

Swiftly, invisible claws dug into his slides, ripping nothing but leaving the burn of teared flesh in it's wake. His joints seemed to pop and stretch even as his limbs stayed still. They threatened to leave the sockets even though Arthur knew it would be a lie. His scalp seemed to split.

Then his lungs caught the flame that was spreading through his body. Dear God, did they hurt like Hell. He could hardly breathe. The organs felt diseased and ridden with death. Blood filled the sacs except when he coughed nothing came out, he was drowning in his own blood. And the damn bird was still yelling.

With sudden energy he reached for his gun, taking a wild aim and firing, hoping it hit the evil bird. The crack of the shot caused stars to implode in his head, with the fierceness of supernovas spreading through his brain and scorching his insides. Like a shooting star has crash landed straight into his head.

Then the metal weapon fell from his hands, arm dropping down with such suddenness, you'd think he was dead.

Arthur Morgan didn't pass out until his eyes ignited hotter than the sun, his mind filled with screams and he was sure his tears had turned to blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, Kudos, and Criticism are always appreciated.  
Tumblr - @Bee_Haw_Yee_Haw
> 
> Everything is also posted on fanfiction.net

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, Kudos and Criticism are always appreciated.


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